Page 164 of Filthy Promises

“You threatened her,” I say without preamble. “After I explicitly told you she was under my protection.”

“Protection.” He scoffs. “Is that what we’re calling it now? What happened to the son I raised?”

“That son is standing right in front of you.” I step closer. “But he’s finally seeing you clearly.”

My father studies me. “And what exactly do you see, Vincent?”

“A man so obsessed with legacy that he’d threaten a pregnant woman. My pregnant woman.” My voice doesn’t waver. “A father who taught me that family is everything, then put his hands on the mother of my child.”

“Familyiseverything,” he insists. “Akopov blood?—”

“She’scarryingAkopov blood, you obstinate motherfucker!” I roar in his face. “Sheismy family now.”

He stares at me like I’ve grown a third arm. “You can’t be serious. This girl has twisted you completely. Made you soft.”

“No.” I shake my head. “She’s made me see what you’ve been doing all along. Controlling. Manipulating. Using ‘family’ as an excuse for your own agenda.”

My father’s face goes gray. “Everything I’ve done has been for the Bratva.”

“Bullshit. It’s been for your ego. Your insatiable need to control everything and everyone around you.” I laugh bitterly. “Including me.”

“I made you what you are,” he growls. “Everything you have?—”

“Yes, yes, for fuck’s sake. You’ve made sure I know exactly who owns it,” I finish for him. “The apartment. The company. The respect. None of it’s really mine, is it? It’s all just on loan, contingent on my obedience.”

He doesn’t deny that that’s how he feels. At least he grants me that much honesty.

“What did you offer her?” I ask, already knowing the answer. “Money? Security? The same things you’ve used to control me my entire life?”

“I offered her what any sensible woman in her position would want,” he says coldly. “She refused. Tore up my check like the foolish girl she is.”

A fierce, unexpected pride surges through me. “That’s because she’s not for sale. Neither am I. Not anymore.”

My father rises up tall. He thinks he scares me the same way he always has. He doesn’t realize that, now that I’m this close, I can see all the cracks in him. The wrinkles, the gray hairs, the liver spots. All the signs that prove he is far closer to the grave than he’d like to believe.

If he touches Rowan again, he’ll be even closer than that.

“Think very carefully about what you’re doing, Vincent. About what you’re throwing away.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” I meet his gaze steadily. “I’m choosing her. I’m choosing our child.”

No one speaks.

Then my father laughs—a cold, harsh crackle.

“You think you can walk away from it all?” He shakes his head. “You’re more naïve than I thought.”

“I never said anything about walking away.” I straighten to my full height, looking down at the man who’s loomed over me my entire life. “I still want all of the things I am entitled to. But I will get them on my terms, not yours.”

“You don’t get to dictate terms,” he snaps.

“I do now.” I hedge closer, dropping my voice, and Andrei has no choice but to shuffle backwards. “Because I know things, Father. I’ve been paying attention all these years. Learning. Watching. Building my own connections, my own loyalties.” I smile, and it’s not a nice expression, not by any stretch of the imagination. “The Bratva council might be interested to hear some of what I know.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” But there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes now.

“Try me.” I hold his gaze. “Test me on this, and you’ll find out exactly how much of your son I really am.”

We stand there, two immovable forces locked in silent combat.

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